OujiSama Wo Oikakete
by QueenSaiyan
Summary: **YAOI** - Goku x Vegeta (Jeice x Vegeta, Frieza x Vegeta). Vegeta's past is a dark secret known to no one else alive, but Goku wants to get closer to his Prince. Will Vegeta let him open this Pandora's Box, or will Goku unwittingly betray his trust?
1. OujiSama Wo Oikakete: Inryoku

Author's notes: Hey all, Queenie here. This is the first yaoi fic I've ever uploaded, _Ouji-sama Wo Oikakete_ (In Pursuit of the Prince). Even though it's my first, this doesn't mean I'm a newbie, it just means I'm a little shy. ~_^ I was watching the beginning of the fight with the Ginyu force one day, and as always, my lemon-tinted vision could detect some 'tension' between Jeice and Vegeta. Hence, I was driven to write this fic to get the idea of a kind of nasty-uke-Jeice out of my damn head! I'm a big fan of Goku x Vegeta though ^^; 

Rated R for yaoi-ish situations, rape, violence, swearing, some shounen ai… And cruelty to Vegeta XD (Don't worry, I don't mean it. *cuddles him*). This is the first part of three, and I'll be uploading the second part in a few days. 

Vegeta's POV. All thoughts are in italics, flashbacks are indicated by asterisks and third-person POV. 

Disclaimer: I don't own the Z-boys, they belong to Akira Toriyama. I just like playing with them, but if someone's willing to sell them to me… ) 

I stare up at the sky, feeling the sun's warmth on my face. It's not often that the Prince of all Saiyajin has the chance to stop and observe something so frivolous, and even less often that I would actually take it. The birdsong I'm hearing now is usually drowned out by the incessant maddening hum of my Gravity Machine, the slowly passing clouds obscured by layers of scarred metal and convoluted wiring twisted together by the woman. Either that, I amend, or I am too preoccupied with trying to kick Kakarotto's ass. The baka sprawls near me foolishly, arms akimbo and a battered grin on his face. I know that I am in a much worse state, as usual. I can see my dark blue sleeveless combat suit is ripped and covered in blood – Mine or Kakarotto's, there's no way to tell. We sparred together today, like we have almost every day for months now. He sought me out, the days of relative peace obviously grating on his Saiyajin lust for battle just as they did mine. The woman says he seeks me out for _company_, but doubtless she has no idea what she is talking about. After so many years on this planet, I am still regarded with mistrust by Kakarotto's Earthling friends, those fools. Not that I care, of course. Those weaklings do well to stay out of my way! On the odd occasion, Kakarotto's brats and Trunks join us with our sparring, but we have left them far behind. I am now able to power up to the level of Super Saiyajin 4 without using the woman's Brute Ray, thanks to the brutal battles Kakarotto and myself indulge in. We beat each other half to death, gaining great enjoyment from such an activity, and then heal ourselves with one of those Senzu beans, eliciting a surge in power afterwards. Having our tails back doesn't exactly lessen our powers either. Today, however, we remained powered down in the first Super Saiyajin form, to test our skills rather than overwhelm each other with brute strength. The evidence of our restraint is visible in the rolling landscape still stretching _relatively_ intact for miles around. We halted our training a short time ago, Kakarotto laughingly pleading that he was hungry. Hn, that fool seems to never do anything but eat, fight and sleep. And aggravate me, I amend as he reaches over to tap my shoulder, bare where it rests – far more sedately than his, I might add – against the grass a comfortable distance from him. 

"Don't touch me," I snap.

"Hey Vegeta, you awake?"

I roll my eyes at his stupidity. "Of course I am, baka. What do you want?"  
"I was just wondering…" His hand goes to the back of his head in his universally appealing pose as he flashes a grin at me. "Aw, nothing!"

I turn my head slightly to regard him sideways, trying not to show my wry amusement. "Kakarotto, spit it out. Or am I going to have to go over there and re-enact today's fight?" His grin widens as if he doubts my ability to do so, and my expression settles into a familiar scowl. I swear, if he doesn't watch it, I'll rip that…

"I was wondering if you missed Vegeta-sei," He blurts hurriedly, as if trying to forestall the dissipation of my good mood.

I blink at him a few times before resuming my observation of the sky. "Sometimes."

I really shouldn't encourage him. He continues, "I think I would too. Miss Earth, that is. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else, without all my friends."

I make a small noise of contempt. He could never grasp the concept of being alone, doomed to be the last full-blooded Saiyajin in existence. "I am the Prince of a race of corpses." I whisper to myself, barely moving my lips.

As Kakarotto glances at me I am suddenly reminded that there is still one other akin to me, his acute Saiyajin hearing having picked up my words. For once he remains silent, mercifully removing his thoughtful gaze just as I clamp down on the urge to shift uncomfortably. Perhaps I have misjudged Kakarotto's perceptiveness; only now am I coming to realise just how much was shared between us during our fusion into Vegetto, and later, Gogeta. Only a thin gauze separated our minds, allowing some thoughts and feelings to pass from consciousness to consciousness. I have an eerie feeling I have somehow been contaminated, that some residue of Kakarotto has been left behind. These suspicions are heightened by the occasional incident where I look into Kakarotto's eyes and I can _see what he is thinking_. We sometimes speak without words – not telepathy as such, but communicating through a glance or gesture that is seemingly innocuous until the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with the dawning realisation of what has just transpired.

Behind the innocent façade I can sometimes see the darker, more intelligent person lurking in the blackness of his eyes, and it makes me wonder if he has the ability to do the same. I do not want to know what he can see in _my_ eyes.

I look at him now, his brow delicately furrowed in thought, a blade of grass angling out the side of his mouth. My hand surprises me by reaching of its own accord to tug the blade from his lips. 

"Vegeta…" At his utterance of my name a strange quiver ripples through me, a wave of arctic fire pulsing from the inside out. I keep my face impassive as he continues, but I can not help but wonder at my reaction. "You… You always have to be so cold. Why won't you let anyone get close to you?"

I stare at him numbly, aware that he is blushing slightly and unable to comprehend why I am foolishly doing the same. "Baka, I have no time for - "

He cuts me off peremptorily, and I tense with anger. "Not even Bulma. You won't let us see who you are inside, you even deny it's there. But _I_ know better, Vegeta. I've seen inside your mind, and I know there's someone in there. Someone who's lonely and crying."

"And you're a fine one to talk of such things!" I bark, startling myself with the force at which it the words spill out of me, but completely out of patience. "_Goku_, the Earth Saiyajin, gentle as a lamb and twice as stupid. Yet you glory in the hunt, using the blood-letting as a release for your own pent-up Saiyajin desire for the kill! _What would your wife and son think?_"

The blood drains from his face and I smirk with satisfaction. An instant later I find myself slammed against a tree, Kakarotto's hand pressing hard against my throat. I laugh mirthlessly in his snarling face. "But don't worry, I won't tell your little Earth friends about the atrocities I've seen end felt you perform at night, Kakarotto. That would make you a threat to their cosy little delusions of peace, wouldn't it? That would make you become an outcast like myself!"

After visibly struggling to get himself under control, Kakarotto says levelly, "You didn't answer my question. But you're not an outcast, Vegeta." The pressure his hand had been exerting on me lessens, making it decidedly easier to breathe. At my snort of derision, his brows lower again but his fingers remain gentle, resting against my skin as if to prevent my escape. "You won't give them a chance to get to know you like I have."

"You don't 'know me', Kakarotto." I sneer.

At this he runs his other hand through his wildly spiked hair in frustration. "Then _let_ me!" He almost pleads. I remain silent, scowling off to the side so I don't have to look up at him any longer. This isn't the first time I wish I had more height than that of a youth. My years with Frieza didn't exactly promote healthy growth in a young Saiyajin. 

Kakarotto's small chuckle regains my attention. "I know a way… It wouldn't be… _Unpleasant_." I look up at him in alarm; his eyes have taken on a dangerous glitter and his fingers… His fingers are sliding around the back of my neck, pressing just hard enough so I can feel my own pulse quickening against his skin. I flinch as he gently grasps the hair at my nape, leaning closer with a tiny smile on his face.

"Kakarotto, I - " He silences me with his other hand on my mouth, and my face heats against my will. I pray he thinks it is from anger, when in truth my body has reacted almost violently to his touch. The same shiver as before runs through my insides as he watches me with slitted eyes.

"I'm not _completely_ ignorant of my Saiyajin heritage like you think I am, Vegeta." He presses himself against me, thigh to muscular thigh, his face inches from my own. My snug combat suit hides very little; I am humiliated. Just like… that time. 

"Do you know of the Qi'Shan technique?" He says softly. Realisation dawns, and he grins at my expression. "I see you do. It requires close physical contact for the trick to work, but…" He shrugs. I am quickly realising that at such close quarters, Kakarotto's Gi hides very little either. He couldn't possibly… No, not someone like me. No one ever could. I writhe frantically to escape, to protect myself and my secrets, but his hand leaves my nape and joins its twin in easily pinning my arms against the tree behind me. The rough bark scores my back. His tail, darker than mine, snakes its way up to twine with my own, making me shudder with pleasure as the reddish fur is ruffled. _Where the hell did he learn that?!_ I am too flustered to control my Ki properly; it bursts around us in erratic flares of light as for the first time in decades I fail to go Super Saiyajin. His hair lifts itself and fades to gold, his aura bursting out to envelop me like warm honey. I look into beautiful green eyes and see a predatory glaze that is purely Saiyajin, yet utterly Kakarotto. I am both terrified and drawn; my insides are on fire. He leans closer for the kill, tilting his head to reach down to me. I use the last of the air in my heated lungs to yell furiously, "Damn it, Kakarotto!!" before his lips reach mine and the world spins away into oblivion.

*

No!

* 

~To be continued…~ 

Read and review! I love reviews… Go on, you know you want to click it. ~_^ 


	2. OujiSama Wo Oikakete: Misuteta Saiyajin

Warning: This fic contains Yaoi (male/male relationships), so if you don't approve, please leave now.

Author's notes: Whee, two reviews! Positive feedback is nice, but any feedback at all is more than expected :D ^^; Thanks a lot, guys. It's always fun to see how others read into the events! *gives Vegeta-shaped candy to Manawolf and Arovak* (Because the ff.net people got plushies) Here's chapter 2, and I feel so bad about being mean to Vegeta like this… Muahaha. Remember, we're starting off with a flashback today. ^_^

Warnings for this chapter: Rape, violence, swearing. Yep, it's a nice happy chapter. ^^;

All thoughts are in italics, flashbacks are indicated by asterisks and third-person POV.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Z-boys, they belong to Akira Toriyama. I just like playing with them, but if someone's willing to sell them to me… )

Ouji-sama Wo Oikakete

Chapter 2: Misuteta Saiyajin (Discarded Saiyajin)

*

No!

*

Black eyes glinted down to where he stood, waiting in the centre of the Grand Tournament Arena. Vegeta sent a smirk and a slight toss of his head in return, turning his back on the crowded grandstand to lean casually against a central pillar festooned with flags and ribbons. Today was his coming-of-age celebration, and Jeice had been staring at him for quite some time. Vegeta knew that if he turned his head, the red-skinned fighter's attention would not have shifted. He could feel his gaze on his back, boring through blue-black ceremonial cloak and armour as if it were tissue paper. Never mind that several thousand so-called warriors already packed the battleground, staring at him, waiting for the event to begin. He scanned the crowd, looking for the presence of the two other remaining Saiyajin. There, Raditz, and further along, Nappa, his 'caretaker' of 16 years. He stopped his roving eyes just short of Frieza's pavilion, a mass of purple satin billowing in the brisk night air, knowing that to look the bastard in the eye was to invite trouble. _Not that I wouldn't mind a little action_, he thought, beginning to get a bit piqued. _Where is my blasted opponent_? The answer arrived soon in the form of twin horn blasts drifting brazenly out over the open-air stadium. The echoing clamour and stomps of approval were almost sufficient to shift the loose dirt of the battle arena floor. Vegeta grinned tightly in anticipation and straightened, throwing off his cloak. Everyone's attention was drawn to the massive metal doors, carved with filigree and the royal insignia in gold leaf, standing 30 feet tall at the other end of the Grand Tournament Arena. Slowly they swung open, revealing a hulking brute of a soldier, undoubtedly selected from one of Frieza's Elite Guard as a 'test' for the Saiyajin Prince's strength, so far unfathomed by all but himself.

"Some test this will be!" Vegeta muttered. "The fool's knees are shaking." The rules were not to kill your opponent, but he was sure Frieza wouldn't mind a bit – or a lot – of bloodshed on such a fine night. The moon was almost full. Surely a good omen, he concluded smugly. Taking a smooth step forward, he ignored the assemblage and focused instead on Jeice once again, sending a tiny nod of acceptance with a wicked grin as garnish up at his appreciative audience. Pretending not to see the laughter and shoving of the more imbecilic members of the Ginyu Force, Vegeta turned once again to his craven adversary and crooked his finger confidently.

*

__

No! Stop it! I don't want to see!

*

Vegeta was suffocating. His body burned, the air was too thick to breathe. Sultry laughter curled through the darkness of his fogged brain, made him struggle to resurface from where he floundered in black waters. Grappling with the strangling sheets, Vegeta opened his eyes and blinked blearily. The grinning face of Jeice swam into view, startlingly close, causing the Saiyajin to lurch his head back involuntarily. His mouth was moving; Vegeta strove to hear his words over the buzzing in his ears.

"… liked that, didn't you? It was one of my special ones, without taste or smell. The boys and I thought…"

What? What was he saying? Something important… 

"… slipped it into your drink. You made it nice and easy for me, Princeling, flitting around like that to your monkey friends after your great victory. I just wish Frieza had let me be the challenger, you wouldn't have gotten through that one with your skin so unmarked."

This wasn't right. This wasn't what Jeice was meant to be doing. _I don't want this._ He tried to speak through the fuzz in his mouth numbing his tongue, resulting in an incoherent sound. Jeice traced a finger over his shrinking flesh, and cupped his face in hands crimson as blood.

"Pale… and so pure. Did anyone ever tell you that half the company's been lusting after you? No, I suppose not. After all, you do belong to him."

Speech failing him, Vegeta tried to move only to discover the reason Jeice's face was so close was that he was resting half on top of him, pinning him to the mattress below a thick curtain of bone-white hair. An awkward seal-like flop did nothing to dislodge him, and served only to set the room to spinning nauseatingly above him. Jeice was still speaking, and tracing patterns on his burning skin. 

"… should only last a short time, which means I don't have all night for you, little Prince. Let's get rid of these clothes, shall we? I know you must be hot…"

Smooth hands slid up under Vegeta's shirt, making him flinch and try to reel away. He managed to jerk his head from side to side and blurt out a strangled, "No!"

Jeice tossed back his head and laughed. "No? How can you say no when your body so clearly says yes?" Humiliation and anger filled Vegeta, galvanising him to lash out at his assailant. His blow was weaker than a kitten's pat, and both arm and frustrated tears fell to the sheets.

"Oh, didn't I tell you? The drug I gave you was a natural Ki suppressant combined with tranquillisers and a little something that would make you more… Agreeable." Jeice demonstrated his meaning by reaching between them and grasping him so roughly it hurt.

"No!" Vegeta moaned painfully. "Stop it!"

"Not a chance, mate." He replied, laughing cruelly. "I've been waiting years for this and I'm not going to stop now! This way Frieza will never know, and you won't tell him, will you? Big, strong Saiyajin Prince reduced to nothing but a low-class whore by a member of the Ginyu Force!"

*

__

Don't make me see this! Not again! Not again!

*

The door to the room was slightly ajar, spilling light over the huddled form of the young Saiyajin. Scalding tears of shame and hatred spilled silently over his cheeks to dampen the floor where he lay crumpled like a discarded doll. After sating himself, Jeice had thrown Vegeta against the wall, laughing softly. Clothes hung from his light frame in tattered strips, his front smeared with the other's semen. He made no move to clean himself. Blank eyes stared dully at the wall. His tail flopped limply against the floor.

He could hear footsteps. They paused at the door to his prison, his torture chamber that reeked of Jeice and the still lingering scent of his own cursed body's arousal. The heavy wooden door opened smoothly, in one fluid movement, flooding the small room with torchlight. Vegeta flinched, the fine muscles in his back rippling in the dimness. He knew who was here. He knew it by the dry, rustling sound of his skin, by the rasp of a reptilian tail against the stone floor, by the unmistakable footsteps of one who was absolutely confident in his supremacy over all. He knew even before Frieza's humourless chuckle reached his ears.

"Well well, what have we here, a little monkey Prince!"

Vegeta did not answer. He could feel Frieza's silent leer drape itself greedily over him where he lay curled against the corner wall. He couldn't mean to – _Oh yes he could._ Jeice had told him, had whispered in his unwilling ears what to expect. He had not taken Vegeta. He squeezed his eyes shut against hot tears of anger at his traitorous body. No, he had not been taken. That privilege was reserved for…

Frieza spoke again. "Well, my dear Vegeta, have you nothing to say for yourself? Whatever would you be doing in here, all alone and naked, no less?"

Sudden rage sparked in him. He knew! He knew everything that happened in his conquered empire; his elite fighters were forever under his watchful eye. Frieza was toying with him! Well, if he thought Vegeta would go quietly, he had another thing coming. _I won't give him the fucking satisfaction!!_

Vegeta locked his eyes on the wall inches from his face – pure white, except for where blood had spattered upon his impact with it – and pushed himself to his knees. His auburn tail awoke and roared a protest into his spine. Broken in several places, it hung unnaturally and brushed the floor as he rose to his feet to glare his defiance at Frieza. Standing cleared his head of the drug somewhat, but rage, shame, pain and hatred coalesced to throw all caution to the winds. He snarled at Frieza's open perusal of his nakedness, but made no futile move to cover himself.

"Well, aren't you bold? I see Jeice certainly enjoyed himself…" His voice turned into a deadly soft hiss. "I shall have to remember to punish him for not waiting his turn."

Vegeta's eyes strayed to the door. The only thing between himself and freedom was the changeling. He could feel his Ki trembling at the edge of his consciousness; it would come to his aid if called. Frieza noticed his glance and laughed, a cold, malevolent sound devoid of humour. 

"Really, Vegeta. Do you think you could outsmart _me_? You are, after all, just a little monkey."

Rage sparked in Vegeta, lighting the blue flame of his Ki as he flung himself bodily at Frieza. Ignoring all pain, he drove his fist forward and felt a flood of satisfaction at the sound of it smashing into Frieza's impassive visage. He spun his leg high into the air – and almost overbalanced as his roundhouse kick met nothing but air. Suddenly pain shrieked through his nerves; Frieza had his tail! An arm appeared around his throat, locking off his breath, and a voice grated in his ear.

"Naughty monkey. You need to be taught how to behave!" The freezing fingers on his tail tightened, and Vegeta's groan was turned into a pained gurgle by the arm around his throat. He could feel delicate bones grinding together, nerve endings close to being crushed. He was not going to faint. He would not faint! He strained to see through the blackness bordering his vision and clawed at Frieza's arm around his throat, but its hand was locked in his spiked hair. Vegeta kicked backwards at his kneecaps, anything to be free… Frieza's arm shifted from his throat, allowing him blessed air, only to lock Vegeta's arm behind him in a grip icy as death. The changeling's tail snapped around to secure his other flailing arm, and he was suddenly kicked in the back of the knees and yanked to the ground.

"You goddamn tail-grabbing son of a bitch! Get the fuck off me!" Vegeta rasped, his face pressed against the rough stone floor, arms stretched nearly to breaking point. He felt Frieza's coldness above him and shuddered in revulsion.

"What language for one so young! I do so love it when they struggle, though…" At the sound of the lust in the tyrant's voice, Vegeta went mad, bucking wildly and summoning all his Ki. Curses as foul as any low-class soldier's poured from his lips, until he felt the kiss of metal at his throat.

"Vegeta," Frieza said pleasantly, "I hold at your throat a ceremonial dagger. Could you see it, you would recognise it as the one your father would have passed to you had he lived to see this day."

"You fucking whoreson, I'm going to rip your – " Vegeta quieted again at the feeling of the cold blade slicing shallowly into the soft flesh at the base of his jaw. His muscles tensed.

"Very good, Saiyajin. You learn quickly. Oh, and don't think that I would stop at taking your body after you had died. Even after death, you Saiyajin remain so very delightfully warm…"

*

__

No. This can't happen. I am the Saiyajin Prince!

Someone, anyone, Nappa, Raditz, help me!

… Biting claws raking his back…

… The hideous sound of his arm popping out of its socket…

… He choked on a shriek of agony, blinded by tears...

__

Please, no, stop it, please!

… Frieza fisted a hand in his hair, pulling his head back….

… felt something tear inside, could smell the stench of his own blood…

__

Blood…Can't see… Alone in the dark…

… Awoken by the twisting of his swollen arm, brought back to throbbing life by a white-scaled hand….

… cracking ribs, cracking sanity…

__

Not again, you bastard, not again…!

Over and over and over and over and over.

*

~ To be concluded…~

How was that? There's my evil-uke-Jeice who was stuck in my head! (Scary, huh? XD) I think Vegeta might seem a bit OOC, but we've got to remember that this is when he was just 16, and he wasn't as… shall we say, `walled in'. The next and final chapter will be posted in a couple of days after I've finished writing the last scene… Angst is so much easier to write, y'know? x_X Reviews are appreciated!

  



	3. OujiSama Wo Oikakete: Mitsuketa Saiyajin

Warning: This fic contains Yaoi (male/male relationships), so if you don't approve, please leave now.

Author's note: HA! So much for a few days! More like 6 months! *dies* I have no excuses. I checked my email the other day and saw 3 new reviews, so I decided to get off my goddamn ass and finish what I'd started! Never again will I post a fic that I haven't finished, no matter how close I think I am… It makes finishing it so much harder. ^^;;;

So, without further ado, here's the final extra-long chappie, and it's been a long time coming!

Warnings for this chapter: Violence, swearing, fluff, crying Goku, and happy endings! ^^;

Vegeta's POV. All thoughts are in italics.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Z-boys, they belong to Akira Toriyama. I just like playing with them, but if someone's willing to sell them to me… )

Ouji-sama Wo Oikakete

Chapter 3: Mitsuketa Saiyajin (Discovered Saiyajin)

*

__

Not again, you bastard, not again…!

Over and over and over and over and over.

*

My eyes snap open and meet Kakarotto's wide ones inches from my own. Through a haze of tears I see them soften with damnable pity – _I knew it_ – and I harshly shove him away from me.

"How _DARE_ you make me live that _again_!?" I roar, landing a punch to his jaw with punishing force. I catch him completely off guard, and he arches backwards to go crashing through a tree several metres away. I pant, half-sobbing, with the force of my emotions and scrub a hand angrily across my face to rid myself of the cursed tears blurring my vision. I can feel Kakarotto's Ki among the ruined splinters of tree, but he remains silent and unseen where he landed. Familiar fury rises in me again, and I embrace it as an old friend, donning it like a blanket to cover my ragged emotions.

"Damn you!" I launch myself at him again, hurling my Ki in front of me to incinerate the foliage hiding him. "You will NOT PITY ME!!" A flash of orange, and he is revealed to me. _Damn it, damn it, damn it!_ I chant in my mind as I throw barely controlled kicks and punches at him. He narrowly dodges them in time, and is forced to power up to Super Saiyajin. I scream and feel my power rise to match his, then go beyond as I reach level two. Electricity-charged air whips my clothes and hair in my own personal wind. I resume my attack, my face contorted with blind anger and hurt. _He betrayed me._ A kick whistles past his ear. _How could he?_ My gloved fist is caught and held by his hand, and he ascends to my level. _Oh Kami-sama, he knows. He knows everything._

Kakarotto is shouting something at me, but I don't want to listen. I drive my knee into his midsection, but feel none of the satisfaction that would normally come from a successful attack. He doubles over, gaping like a landed fish. I draw back for an axehandle blow to his back, but suddenly he is gone. The Instant Transmission! Behind me! There is a sharp pain at the base of my skull – and I know no more…

I slowly make the transition to consciousness. My eyes slit open, then I close them again. It is night, firelight flickers on my eyelids, and I am warm and completely relaxed. There is a hand running slowly and gently through my hair – _Bulma_, I think lazily – and I realise with mild surprise that I am purring. I rarely purr, and it is a rough, unfamiliar rumble that vibrates from low in my throat now. I must have woken myself with it. My back is pressed against something warm and slightly yielding. A faint scent of cinnamon and something unidentifiable twists around me; it is vaguely familiar, but frankly I am too comfortable to care.

I remain as I am for a long time, drifting in and out of sleep as her soothing fingers continue to thread through the thick strange of my hair. They stroke warmly across my head and proceed upwards, and the purr bursts from my throat afresh. Unexpectedly, an answering rumble shakes against my back and shoulders, and the fingers freeze. So does my purr.

__

Was that… a STOMACH?!

I open my eyes and inch them upwards. A face topped by unruly black hair appears, smiling down at me.

"Hey, 'Geta. Did I wake you? Sorry."

"Kakarotto! What the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Well gee, I didn't mean to. It's just that it's almost dinnertime, so I was getting kind of hungry…"

"Not that, you idiot! Ah, just get off me!" I hurriedly disentangle myself from where I'd been – _Kami-sama_ – lying against the other Saiyajin with my head on his chest. I gingerly pry his tail loose from around my forearm, all the while struggling to force away the heat rising in my face from touching it however innocently. Fortunately, he seems not to notice as he rises from where he was resting against a boulder. A short distance away is a small campfire; this is one of the grassy plains where we come to train.

"Are you… okay now?" He asks anxiously, stretching out a hand as if I am a nervous beast about to bolt. My gloved hand slaps it away, and I suppress a wince as he flinches.

"Of course not," I snap, taking a step backwards and tilting my face so it is shadowed from the firelight. "I stink like you." It is the truth; my hair and hands are permeated by the spicy scent I'd noticed earlier. My tail wraps around my waist and I lick my lips nervously; I can still taste him too… The thought of his kiss brings a tiny thrill, but at the same time I feel a plummeting sensation in my stomach. _He knows! He reached into my mind and saw everything… My past, my weakness, my… darkness_. It is as I thought: He could never, never love me now. Not one such as I, and one such as he.

The pain caused by that thought is almost unbearable, and unable to fight it, I throw words at it instead.

"Are you satisfied, Kakarotto? Did you find what you seek, damn you?!"

"Vegeta, I-"

"Shut up! I will have no pithy words from you! Was beating me in battle not enough for you, that you had to rape my mind as well?! Well now you know, and may it rot your mind until you are even more of a half-wit than you already are!"

Kakarotto grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me hard enough to silence me. "Vegeta, will you listen to me!? I didn't know it would hurt you, the Dragon didn't tell me that. I just wanted to know more about you, to be closer to you and understand you-"

I backhand him hard enough to snap his head around. My shoulders shake with incredulous laughter. Who would have known the gentle, golden Kakarotto was possessed of such poisonous cruelty? I whirl to throw myself into the sky, tail lashing the air, and flare my Ki. A warm hand on mine stops my escape.

"Vegeta, don't," Kakarotto's voice breaks on my name, and I turn slowly to look at his face, tilted down and away from me. Pain shines in his dark eyes, reflecting the firelight like tears. "Don't. Don't go. Please…"

My anger slowly dissipates at the sound of his voice – the hurt, and the longing – and I close my eyes and allow myself to be drawn down into his simple embrace.

Kakarotto sinks to his knees and clutches me to him as if I am some ephemeral thing to be kept at all costs. I should feel stifled, but the jumpy, panicky itch to retreat from this closeness does not come. I am uncertain as to what to do with my hands; I risk a tentative touch to his shoulder before resting them softly against his lower back. By the time his brief scattering of tears have seeped through my ripped shirt and made themselves known, he is speaking quietly, haltingly. His words, muffled by my hair and shoulder, blow warm against the skin of my neck.

"… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If I'd known – or expected – what they'd done to you, I wouldn't have done that. I _felt_ it, I… I shouldn't have done that, I'm so _stupid_, all the time making things worse when I only want to make everything better. But I can't, I…" - His voice breaks off and he clutches me closer – "Last night I asked the Dragon to teach me about the Saiyajin, I thought you'd approve, or be happy, or something. You always seem so lonely, like you're the only one who things and acts like a Saiyajin, and you can't understand anything else, so I wanted to help you, I wanted to know… just what it is you mourn every night out under the stars. And now I know what a Saiyajin is, what our customs and values and abilities were, I wanted to share it with you… So you'd know… That you're not alone… 

But it all went wrong, I didn't know it would hurt you, I didn't know…"His voice trails off.

We sit for a moment in silence, I staring at the ground beside us, he remaining with his face pressed against my neck. I can feel his tail wrapped tightly around my ankle. It amuses me, somehow, that I am the unlikely comforter in this situation. My humour is dark and perverse as usual, but I shove it to the back of my mind. I am not sure of what to do or say, and resort to my usual brusqueness in the hope that Kakarotto knows me well enough by now to see past my words to the meaning beneath.

"Baka. It's not like I hadn't felt it before." I say in a low voice. "It was _my_ pain, something I have relived many times, and it isn't something I wanted to share." 

__

Especially not with you, I add silently.

"But Vegeta - "

I break in, my voice hardening. "Kakarotto! I am not some weak, pathetic girl-child to be consoled! I have always lived with this darkness inside me, and I never asked for your help!" I draw a deep breath and continue more smoothly. "I have already avenged myself against Jeice, and Frieza is rotting in Hell thanks to my own son. Do not forget who I am!"

I feel him smile, even though I cannot see it. "Yes, Vegeta. I won't forget."

Good. He understands.

I steel myself against him and push him away. "We will never speak of this again," I look at Kakarotto steadily until he drops his eyes and gives a tiny nod. I pull him to his feet as I stand, and walk a few paces away. I will my defences back to me and use my body language to enforce it, my tail wrapping itself around my waist as I fold my arms. I glance at the sky, and the fur on my tail fluffs involuntarily in a tiny shiver. 

"So, you wasted a wish on me?" I allow some humour to seep into my voice. "What was your other wish?"

"I, uh, wished the moon back. After I knew what it was for, I couldn't really _not_…" He grins sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.

"I see. Well, that leaves me in debt to you." More amusement creeps into my voice, and I swiftly close the space between us. Kakarotto's eyes go wide, and I crush him to me, reaching up blindly to seek his mouth with mine. I kiss him as passionately as I know how, tasting his scent of dark cinnamon and spice, and then I relinquish his mouth to whirl myself into the night, laughing wildly and freely.

I leave him there, catching his breath and gaping after me as I disappear into the darkness under the brilliant crescent moon.

~ The End. ~

Hooray! Hooray for happy endings! Hooray for no lemons! Bwahahaha! *runs away happy that the fic is finished, hugging Goku and Vegeta plushies* ^__^ Review, please! I'd love to know what you thought!


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